


How to Stop Stalking

by Silveriss



Category: Original Work
Genre: Birthday, Crush, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Germany love, Gift, High School, Iron-on patches, It's not as cliché as it sounds I swear, Or more like following but heh, POV First Person, Punk ladies are hot, Punk rock shop, Sapphic, Stalking, They're both loners, internet friendships, nerds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-01
Updated: 2016-07-01
Packaged: 2018-07-19 11:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7358551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silveriss/pseuds/Silveriss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I've started following her four weeks ago. I don't know why. I leave ten minutes early every weekday just so I can go to school with her walking ahead of me."<br/>Having a crush on an almost-classmate is not easy, but stalking said crush isn't going to help either.<br/>Did I say stalking? I meant following. I'm not a stalker.<br/>Anyway, the point is, this needs to stop.<br/>But how do I talk to her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Stop Stalking

**Author's Note:**

> Heyyyyy hello there!
> 
> This is a little one-shot I wrote to fight an annoying writer block. It ended up being longer than I expected.
> 
> I'm really sorry about not updating They Think They Know Everything About Me, I swear I'm working on it.
> 
> I hope this lil' thing will help you wait.
> 
> Enjoy!

I've started following her four weeks ago. I don't know why. I leave ten minutes early every weekday just so I can go to school with her walking ahead of me.

 

She has blue hair, electric when the color's fresh, turquoise when it's been more than a week. The right side of her head is shaved, the other side a short waterfall. It's like a beach of grey sand disappearing into waves of blue.

I may be afraid of water, but this sea I'd gladly dive into.

On the back of her neck, at the beginning of her back, when the collar of her shirt lets me, I can see the hint of a tattoo. As I walk behind her, I try to guess what it is and when I sit at my table in class, I take my notepad and draw my favorite guesses. I've drawn over forty since I've started following her.

A raven spreading its wings, beak wide open as if trying to swallow the sky.

A sword, the handle the shape of a dragon.

The face of a nightmare screaming, claws digging in fresh copper skin.

A creature of the sea.

A moon surrounded by spirals of darkness.

The ace of spade.

Tribal symbols intertwined, forming a map of a land only known to her.

* * *

Her backpack is of a bluish purple, various pins and patches forming constellations from her mind. Sometimes she loses one, other times she adds one, changing the only sky I look at on my way to school.

Her, she always walk with her eyes upwards, gazing at the buildings, the trees, the clouds. Sometimes she stops and takes a picture of a flower growing out of a crack in the concrete, or a graff on a wall. She always walks with assurance and good-spirit, even on windy or cold days and when it rains, her umbrella is a rainbow that she twirls around in her hand, and her shoes are clouds she happily soak in puddles.

She never walks without black headphones covering her ears. When she's overflowing with joy and feels the need to share it with the world, I can hear her singing along. She has a beautiful voice, even though she rarely sings on tune.

I have a playlist on my phone that's named after her.

* * *

She never meets anyone she knows while going to school. She never walks with a friend, or holding the hand of a significant other. She's always alone with her music, the air, and me walking five steps behind. I often wonder if she's aware I'm here.

If she considers herself alone on her way to school, even though I never do.

* * *

We're not in the same class, but we have German together. She has a perfect accent and perfect grades. She told us she always spends at least two weeks in Berlin during the summer, and sometimes elsewhere in Germany during other holidays. Her parents love the country, and so does she.

She has a patch on her bag that says BERLIN and under, in smaller front, ARM ABER SEXY. _Poor but sexy_. Our teacher said it's the motto of the city the first day we had German after the Christmas break and Laila proudly showed the class her new patch.

Her name's Laila Simon. Her father's from Syria, her mother's French but of Grecian origins. She's trilingual. Almost quadrilingual with the way she speaks German. Because of that, she had trouble talking when little and started kindergarten one year after most children. She will be 18 in three days. She has a snake at home but no sibling. She likes to write, take pictures, and hike. She's in the school's Climbing Club. She likes Marseille a lot, even though it's one of the worse managed city she's ever seen. She loves the mistral.

I learned all this in German class. Near everything I know about her, I learned it there.

* * *

Today is Tuesday, which means my classes end at 18:15. Laila's class gets out at 16:15 on Tuesdays, so I don't get to walk home with her sight before me. I take my earplugs and start the Laila playlist on shuffle, smiling when _No Difference_ by Bronski Beat starts its melody in my ears.

I'm a little early when I arrive to pick up my little brother after his dance class, but I don't have long to wait before he walks out of the changing room and smiles at me. I kiss Camille's cheeks and ruffles his sweaty hair, then take his hand and ask about his day. He's exhausted but overall happy. When he asks about my day, I just give him the usual shrug. I rarely have any opinion on my days. It's always the same never-ending routine. The same teachers. The same classes. The same classmates. The same grades. The same school. Laila's the only element in my life that changes. She's new herself, having moved to Marseille only this summer, but it's not just that. She walks head up. She sings.

She's more alive than I'll ever be.

* * *

When I get home with Camille, we greet our parents together. After the mandatory "How was you day?", we split up. Camille goes in his room on one end of the apartment to do homework, I lock myself on the other end and switch on my computer. I make myself comfortable on my bed, back leaning against a couple of thick pillows. As soon as I'm settled, I check the time and double click the skype icon with an eager smile. They've probably already started... Yep, they have. I join the group with a big smile and type a cheerful "Hey losers!" as their three avatars appear on my screen.

**[Queen:] Hey Bugs Bunny!**

**[Pink Flamingo:] Hey! Be careful, next time you're late the Queen's gonna cut your head!**

**[Ace of Heart:] yo, Bugs! how you doin?**

It's nice knowing I only have to open my laptop and they're here. They're _always_ here. Anything they do, they do it while chatting on our skype group.

**[Bunnyhole :] Fine, and you guys?**

**[Pink Flamingo:] I should be writing an essay but even reading about Queen's poo problems is more appealing.**

Pink's a very fast typer.

**[Ace of Heart :] boooooored**

**[Queen :] As good as always!**

**[Queen :] And I don't poo, Pink**

**[Bunnyhole :] Nothing unusual then x)**

**[Pink Flamingo :] I KNEW IT.**

**[Pink Flamingo :] YOU'RE A ROBOT.**

**[Pink Flamingo :] YOU JUST CONFIRMED MY THEORY!**

**[Bunnyhole :] XD**

**[Ace of Heart :] it's not a theory it's an obsession XD**

**[Queen :] I don't poo because I shit.**

**[Queen :] Moron.**

**[Bunnyhole :] Yeah, Pink, royalties don't just poo, that's rude**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Arh arh arh.**

**[Pink Flamingo :] I know I'm right, it's your choice if you remain blind to the obvious truth! \\(°A°)/**

**[Queen :] And that emoji's supposed to convince us?**

**[Ace of Heart :] I knew you were illuminati Pink**

**[Bunnyhole :] The use of the triangle letter leaves no doubt!**

**[Pink Flamingo :] *runs away crying* You meanies! ( ;0;)**

**[Bunnyhole :] Remind me how much older you're than me?**

**[Pink Flamingo :] More than you can count!**

**[Queen :] He's your grandfather, Luke!**

**[Bunnyhole :] NOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooo**

**[Ace of Heart :] nerds**

**[Queen :] Takes one to know one ~**

**[Ace of Heart :] the creepy wave! nooooo**

**[Queen :] Mwahahahahahahahahaha! >:D**

**[Pink Flamingo :] All hail the power of the Creepy Wave! /(~A~)/**

**[Bunnyhole :] /(~A~)/**

**[Ace of Heart :] /(~A~)/**

**[Queen :] |_(~A~)_|**

…

**[Ace of Heart :] btw, whassup with your stalkin victim?**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Yeah, have you wooed her yet?**

**[Bunnyhole :] Nah, I'm too intense for her, don't want to scare her off, y'know? B-)**

**[Ace of Heart :] lol**

**[Bunnyhole :] But seriously, nothing's up.**

**[Queen :] You should talk to her, I don't understand why you don't.**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Yeah, babe, you got game!**

**[Bunnyhole :] Ugh, no I don't**

**[Bunnyhole :] And I don't know what to tell her _**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Hey, c'mon, don't contradict me!**

**[Ace of Heart :] just flash her your tits**

**[Queen :] Whatever you do, don't ever listen to Ace.**

**[Bunnyhole :] XD**

**[Queen :] But you should seriously talk to her, Bunny. Stalking is bad.**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Yeah, listen to the Queen, Bunny. Stalking is BAD. And creepy.**

**[Bunnyhole :] Worse than flashing my tits?**

**[Queen :] NO**

**[Ace of Heart :] YES**

**[Pink Flamingo :] You don't even like boobs, Ace, what the fuck?**

**[Ace of Heart :] I don't like boobs SEXUALLY**

**[Bunnyhole :] But esthetically you do? x)**

**[Ace of Heart :] exactly *wink***

**[Queen :] Back to Bunny's victim**

**[Queen :] I really think you should talk to her.**

**[Queen :] What's the worse thing that could happen?**

**[Pink Flamingo :] She could call the police or hit you in the groin!**

**[Queen :] Not helping, Pink.**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Or maybe she carries a taser in her pocket!**

**[Bunnyhole :] She could not want to talk to me**

**[Queen :] You already don't talk, you have nothing to lose.**

**[Ace of Heart :] maybe she's dyin to talk to you but too shy to do it**

**[Bunnyhole :] Ha. Ha. Ha.**

**[Pink Flamingo :] You should listen to Your Majesty, she's always right!**

**[Queen :] Of course I am B-)**

**[Bunnyhole :] But I'm scaaaaaared**

**[Bunnyhole :] I don't even know what to say ):**

**[Queen :] Just be honest.**

**[Ace of Heart :] "hello I'm Bugs Bunny and I like the esthetic of your boobs"**

**[Pink Flamingo :] "Hi, I think we should be friends!"**

**[Bunnyhole :] Thanks Ace, but I think I'd better not x)**

**[Pink Flamingo :] *facepalm***

**[Queen :] *sigh* Ace, you're dumb.**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Oh, did you only realise this now, Your Majesty?**

**[Bunnyhole :] Actually I think I know**

**[Bunnyhole :] What I could say I mean**

**[Pink Flamingo :] ?**

**[Bunnyhole :] Friday's her birthday**

**[Queen :] Well, that's perfect then! Buy her a gift!**

**[Bunnyhole :] What? No! We're not even friends!**

**[Pink Flamingo :] So what?**

**[Queen :] I'm not saying you should buy her a REAL gift, but maybe just a little something**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Like, a pink Flamingo for her garden, or, a deck of cards...**

**[Ace of Heart :] ...a sex toy…**

**[Queen :] ...ê_é**

**[Ace of Heart :] *flees***

**[Queen :] I was thinking about maybe a birthday card or a wish bracelet, nothing fancy**

**[Bunnyhole :] I'll think about it x)**

**[Bunnyhole :] Maybe you're right**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Whatever you get her, it'll be less creepy than stalking, so don't worry. ;D**

**[Bunnyhole :] Yeah, that really comforts me, thanks Pink =_=**

**[Queen :] You have nothing to lose anyway**

**[Bunnyhole :] I know...**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Come on, Bugs, you can do this!**

**[Ace of Heart :] yeah, she'll fall for your tits**

**[Queen :] He meant your eyes e_e**

**[Ace of Heart :] right**

**[Bunnyhole :] x)**

**[Bunnyhole :] Thanks, guys**

**[Bunnyhole :] I think I'm gonna do this**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Woohoo! We're all rooting for you Bugs!**

**[Queen :] Whatever you do, remember that you're amazing ;)**

**[Ace of Heart :] yeah, if she tells you mean things it's just coz she's a bitch and not worth your awesomeness**

**[Bunnyhole :] Thanks guys :')**

**[Bunnyhole :] What would I do without you? :')**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Keep being creepy, I guess? ;D**

**[Queen :] You have us, Bunny, no need to think about what ifs**

**[Ace of Heart :] stop it guys, youre gonna make my tough smol heart tear up ;w;**

**[Bunnyhole :] I'm already tearing up :')**

**[Queen :] Ugh, feelings**

**[Pink Flamingo :] You big saps.**

**[Ace of Heart :] DON'T LISTEN TO THEM BUGS THEY'RE JUST BEING MEAN**

**[Ace of Heart :] THEY'RE JUST JEALOUS CAUSE THEY HAVE NO HEART**

**[Bunnyhole :] I'M A SAP AND PROUD TO BE**

**[Ace of Heart :] GIMME A HUG YOU BEAUTIFUL SAP**

**[Bunnyhole :] *hug* HERE YOU GO YOU WONDERFUL SAP**

**[Pink Flamingo :] STOP USING CAPS MY EYES ARE HURTING!**

**[Queen :] Calm down, kids, you need to cut on the sweets**

**[Queen :] You're gonna get dental cavities**

**[Bunnyhole :] Sorry, mom**

**[Ace of Heart :] sorry mom**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Hey, Your Majesty, if you're the mom, does that mean I'm the fluid parent?**

**[Queen :] No, it's a monoparental family. Go be fluid somewhere else.**

**[Pink Flamingo :] You meany! ;w;**

**[Bunnyhole :] Don't cry! You can be the crazy aunt!**

**[Ace of Heart :] AND the crazy uncle!**

**[Pink Flamingo :] I don't wanna. ;w;**

**[Bunnyhole :] You can have 15 cats and live in a crazy manor!**

**[Pink Flamingo :] ...Ok, deal.**

**[Pink Flamingo :] But the manor's pink and you'd better not touch the plastic flamingos in the garden! òwó**

**[Queen :] Oh, dear...**

**[Bunnyhole :] But seriously guys, thank you for being here. It means a lot.**

**[Queen :] My pleasure.**

**[Pink Flamingo :] You're welcome! :D**

**[Queen :] You do the same for us, after all.**

**[Ace of Heart :] you mean a lot to us too candy bunny**

**[Bunnyhole :] I gotta go, it's dinner time**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Bye ~**

**[Queen :] Don't miss tea time tomorrow!**

**[Ace of Heart :] see ya**

**[Bunnyhole :] I won't, have a nice evening everyone!**

I really love these dorks. I don't know where they live or what's their real names, but I just couldn't care less. I know more than enough about them.

I know who they are, what they like, what problems they struggle with.

I _know_ them.

I met them all through an LGBTQIA+ Support Forum when I was very confused, and very sad, and very closeted. They're not the only people I befriended there, but they're the ones that I kept contact with when I left the forum.

The forum helped a lot, I just didn't feel like I needed that kind of support anymore.

Queen, Pink and Ace - they're the best friends I've ever had.

My only friends, too, actually. I've never been great at the whole 'socializing' thing. Every time I thought I'd made a friend, they ended up throwing me away. Showing me how wrong I was for thinking that. Stomping on my self-esteem until dust was all that was left.

After a while I stopped trying, and now I'm glad with only nice classmates, fictional characters, and online friendships.

At least I thought I was until Laila came along.

* * *

It's Thursday morning and the song Laila's listening to makes me smile a toothy smile. It's not the first time she's sang it, so I already have it on my phone. It's one of my favorites.

It's a nice feeling, knowing we both love the same song. As if Hayley Kiyoko's lyrics could thread a connection between us with her voice.

When she starts the refrain I get the urge to hum along, shy notes hiding under Laila's cheerful words.

" _Saw you face_

_Heard your name_

_Gotta get with you_

_Girls like girls_

_Like boys do_

_Nothing new_ "

In this moment I am reckless, empowered by the might and fearlessness in her voice.

" _Isn't this why we came_

_Gotta get with you_

_Girls like girls_

_Like boys do_

_Nothing new_ "

Thrills are running along my spine.

It's strange. I'm looking at her, I'm listening to her sing these lyrics, and I'm thinking that if I'd had a song like this to listen to back then, if I'd discovered this song years ago, then maybe I wouldn't have hated myself like I used to. Maybe I wouldn't have lost all my friends.

And maybe I wouldn't be stalking her like I do.

But, you know, I'm also thinking - everything's _fine_. My past's fine. _I'm_ fine. Hell, by tomorrow, even my stalking habit might be fine!

" _Girls like girls_

_Like boys do_

_Nothing new_ "

I really do love this song.

* * *

The inside of the shop is lit by white and colored neons, hard rock playing in the background.

I've admired the shop front so many times, but I never actually came in here. Laila has, multiple times. She likes to stop by after class. Sometimes she buys something, sometimes she's just here to take a look. Either way I never wait for her to be done, I just look at the front then walk home. You may have troubles believing me, but I actually know the limits between _following_ and _stalking_. At least I hope so.

It's a punk-rock clothes shop but they also sell some bags, shoes and jewelry such as piercings and leather bracelets. And iron-on patches.

There are a few people wandering in the shop, all dressed as you would expect the customers of a punk-rock shop to be, and only one seller behind the counter. Both of her forearms are covered with impressive tattoos and her ears, nose, bottom lip and left eyebrow are pierced. She'd almost be scary if it wasn't for the bright colors of her clothes and the gigantic smile she seems to have carved in her skin.

She looks really badass. And hot.

I guess punk-rock ladies are my type.

But back to the matter at hand: what should I get for Laila? She likes iron-on patches, I can tell that much. She also has several ear piercings, so there's that too. Maybe a leather bracelet? I remember her wearing one. A wallet chain…? No, she already owns one. What about a tee-shirt? I don't know her exact size but I think I can figure it out. I'm taller than her by maybe 5 centimeters. And I'm a little chubbier.

By the way, if you're wondering, I don't really fit into that shop. I'm more of a comfort-before-style-kind of person. I wear plain jeans and tee-shirts with funny designs, all from the "boy" aisle.

Also, gender roles can go fuck themselves in a black hole.

I smile at the hot seller as I walk past her counter and to the iron-on patches showcase. There's a big variety of styles, sparkling pink daisies rubbing shoulders with flaming skulls. I picture Laila's bag in my mind, its moving constellations printed on my retinae. It would be a shame to buy her one that she already got.

I have an excellent memory when it comes to things I'm interested in.

I'm trying to figure out which rock bands I've already heard her sing a song of when something hooks the corner of my eyes with vibrant colors. I let my gaze be hooked and turn my head slightly, eyes falling on a patch situated on the shelf under the rock bands' one. It's a small heart, maybe 4 centimeters tall. I feel my heart pound in my eyes as I take a better look.

Red,

Orange,

Yellow,

Green,

Blue,

Purple.

Each color is so bright and pretty, proud as love always should be.

_I want it._

Not as a gift to Laila, but as a gift to myself. A reminder that I'm able to be bold, and allowed to love myself just the way I am. A reminder to stay proud no matter what.

I begrudgingly tear my eyes away from the patch to scan the rest of that shelf, and I'm pleasantly surprised by the amount of rainbow I encounter. The Pride's six colors present themselves under many shapes here.

There's another shelf under this one, and I have to bend a little to see the items clearly. They're even more random than on the other shelves. Alien heads, zodiac signs, unicorns, emojis, anarchic symbols, movie titles, many different kind of eyes, birds and flowers, clouds, UFOs… The list goes on endlessly.

I'm straightening my back again and ready to pick one of the many rock band patches when I spot a strange skull in the back of the Pride Shelf. It's a calavera but facing three quarter instead of full-face like usual, and the colors are harmonious, not too flashy. Laila used to have a calavera on her backpack, but she removed it two weeks ago. It wasn't as pretty as this one though.

I walk around the shop for a bit, checking out the other items, but I've already made my choice. When I'm sure I've given everything a proper look, I go the counter and shoot a smile at the cashier.

"Hi. What can I do for you?" She sounds like she knows how to sing.

"Hi. I'd like to buy two iron-on patches, please?" I say, pointing at the showcase with my thumb and over my shoulder.

She smiles warmly. "Of course." She turns around and picks up a key from a hook on the wall, then walk around the counter. "I don't think I've seen you here before," she adds as she unlocks the showcase.

I smile, slightly awkward. I wasn't expecting small talk. "No, it's my first time in here."

She hums. "Which ones do you want?"

I point at the caravela then, shyly, at the rainbow heart. She doesn't say anything as she takes them out and locks the glass door, but she's still smiling when she turns around. I exhale quietly and follow her back to the counter, relieved by her lack of reaction.

Will I feel this tension every time I reveal this part of me?

Probably.

Suddenly I'm not sure I really want to buy this heart. What if people shout slurs at me when they see it? Or worse, what if I get assaulted? What if my classmates don't accept this part of me?

"Are they for you?"

I look up at the cashier and she's still smiling. I clear up my throat. "Not- Not both of them."

She raises her eyebrows.

I feel so small.

"The heart's for me. But the skull's not."

She nodds. "Do you want me to wrap up the skull, then? We have some cool gift paper."

"Yes, please. That'd be nice." My voice is shaking.

"Hum… Are you okay?"

I start. "What?"

She's not looking at me, instead focused on wrapping Laila's patch in red and black paper. "Anything on your mind? You reconsidering buying one of them?"

I blink. Does she understand? I mean, I guess it's pretty obvious, but…

"It's okay, y'know. I can put the heart back." There's genuine concern in her voice. Somehow it's enough to ground me, and I'm able to smile again.

"No, it's fine. I want it. But thanks."

She puts Laila's now wrapped patch and my small rainbow heart in a black paper bag and hands it to me with a big grin.

"No problem. It'll be 3€."

I pay and my heart dances.

_I bought a gift for Laila._

* * *

The first thing I think about when I get home is to open my laptop and start typing.

**[Bunnyhole :] Guys! I did it!**

**[Queen :] I knew you could, Bunny ;)**

**[Pink Flamingo :] I'm so proud of you, Bugs!**

**[Ace of Heart :] someone's gonna get laid ~**

**[Queen :] Ace, you're out**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Yeah, stop trying to corrupt our precious lil' bun! Òwó**

I lean back away from my keyboard and watch them banter for a little while. My heart's easing off on the dancing, but I'm still grinning like an idiot. I can't believe I'm going to give Laila a present tomorrow.

**[Queen :] You okay, Bugs? You're very quiet tonight**

**[Bunnyhole :] Yeah, sorry, I'm fine**

**[Bunnyhole :] Thanks for giving me the guts to do it, guys**

**[Pink Flamingo :] You're welcome! :D**

**[Queen :] You still have to give it to her, you know**

**[Bunnyhole :] Yeah**

**[Ace of Heart :] pshhht that's nothin she can't do**

**[Bunnyhole :] But I feel like I can do it**

**[Bunnyhole :] Thank, Ace x)**

**[Pink Flamingo :] We're all rooting for you, Bugs!**

**[Queen :] If you say so, I believe you**

**[Bunnyhole :] Thank you guys, seriously :')**

**[Bunnyhole :] I gotta go, dinner time**

**[Pink Flamingo :] Bon appétit!**

**[Ace of Heart :] see ya**

**[Queen :] Good night!**

I smile fondly and take a last look at their messages, then shut my laptop and get up. There's a weird feeling tightening my guts, but it's a nice kind of weird.

I can't wait for tomorrow to be today.

* * *

It's Friday and I jump when my alarm starts. _It's today_ is the only thought my brain can form for the first ten minutes of my morning, Laila's face the only sight I can picture. I trip five times, hit three door frames, call my mom "dad", try to untangle my hair with my toothbrush, and I'm off. The wrapped patch is in my hand, light and heavy at the same time, and electric, and I can't stop throwing glances at it.

Perhaps this is all a dream.

I walk in automatic until I reach the bench where I sit every morning to wait for her. I sit, all jittery and static, legs bouncing, fingers holding the gift or playing with the hem of my t-shirt. It's a black t-shirt with small planets and little alien heads scattered over the fabric. I like it a lot. I like space related things a lot. Science-Fiction's cool. Does Laila enjoy Science-Fiction? I think I saw her with an Isaac Asimov book once, but I'm not sure. I'll have to ask her.

I'll have to _talk to_ her.

About her birthday. About iron-on patches and calaveras. About Science-Fiction and aliens and German and Berlin and Scotland and elephants and sunflowers and swimming and school and friendship and love and life and society and rock and piercings and how beautiful her smile is and-

_Laila._

She's here. She's walking pass me, flashing me a lovely smile as she does. Every other day I'd have smiled back and stayed sat for some more steps, then gotten up and followed her. That's not what I'm here to do today.

Instead I get up immediately and say:

"Hi, Laila!"

And my heart screams and spins, and my guts squirm and sing.

Laila's smile withers as her eyes widen slightly, but it's back quickly and brighter than before. Our eyes meet and I can't look away. She greets me with a fist bump. When did I start grinning?

Probably when I woke up. Or in my sleep.

"Happy birthday!" I say, neck growing hot and heart on a rollercoaster. Her smile was bright, it becomes dazzling. The sun has probably gifted her with enough light to make her into a star when she was born. The world's lucky she prefered to stay on earth.

"Thank you so much! How do you know it's my birthday?"

We start walking side by side. I feel as if the gap between us was filled with electricity.

"You said it in German when you introduced yourself," I say, and she raises an eyebrow at me. I still haven't looked away. I'm probably gonna trip on a hole in the pavement, or get run over by a car at the next crosswalk. Frankly I don't care. "At the beginning of the year?"

"And you remembered!" She sounds surprised. I bite my lip. "Is there an elephant in your brain?"

Her smile is crooked and it makes my heart miss a beat. Is she _teasing_ me? Before I can even start to look for an answer to my own question, I feel my grin spread itself back on my face.

"Yeah, but the traitor likes to sleep in History," I joke, one finger tapping on the side on my head as if it was the glass of an aquarium.

Laila's laugh is the most beautiful song I have ever heard.

The shock must have frozen me on the spot because the next thing I know, Laila is two steps ahead and looking at me with a curious face. And then she calls my name.

I'm too stunned by how my name sounds wrapped in her voice to answer.

_Wrapped._

She takes one step forward right when I decide to do the exact same thing.

I can feel her breath firing sparks on my skin. Her scent's all over me. Cardamom and warmth. I can't breathe. Her eyes are endless.

Somewhere far away, paper crumples in my grip. I jump away with a yelp and the reddest cheeks, my heart beating in tune with the storm of butterflies in my stomach. Is the ground spinning? Okay, stupid question. My brain is getting seriously carried away.

Laila is laughing again. I try an awkward smile. Is it just me or is her face pinker? I double check and no, she's definitely blushing. I blink. Why would she…?

Nope, not going there. Dream scenarios will wait. I have something to do.

"Hm, by the way," I say as I hold the gift out to her, fear shaking my smile, "I kind of, huh, got you something."

Oh shit, she looks shocked. Is it too much? I can feel my hands tremble slightly as she takes the gift, and I quickly put them into my pockets. I'm so nervous, it's clawing at my guts. I kinda want to run away. Queen would kill me if I did, though. I'm about to tell her that she doesn't have to accept it if it makes her uncomfortable, but suddenly she's smiling again.

"Wow, thank you! That's so nice!" she says looking right at me. I'm so relieved I almost sigh out loud.

One second later the patch is unwrapped, and two seconds later Laila's not in front of me anymore - she's _around_ me, and I'm drowning in cardamom again. I'm too busy getting high on her warmth and smell to hug her back, something I regret when she pulls back. She doesn't really step away, though. Her eyes are close and full of stars, her grin is the sun itself, her hands on my shoulder are burning me but I never want them to stop.

 _I have a huge crush on you_ , I almost tell her because this is so much, this is a dream come true, this is the girl I've been too afraid to talk to for months. I almost tell her because it's true, and it's overwhelming me how much I like her - but I don't because I don't want her to go away. I want her to stay this close with her grin and her sea of hair and her cardamom.

I don't tell her I have a huge crush on her _because_ I have a huge crush on her.

I push the words back in my heart and clear my throat. "I, hm, I take it you like it?"

Laila raises an eyebrow at me, still grinning. "Are you kidding me? I love it!"

"Really?"

"Yep!" She drops her hands from my shoulders and steps back, not looking away. "I wanted to get some new patches for my bag and this one's perfect."

And then she _winks_ at me.

I think I just got electricized.

"C'mon, we're gonna be late," she says as I stare dumbly, then comes closer and _takes my hand._ Her skin is warm and a bit drier than I expected.

I follow her lead with a yelp and she snorts, but she doesn't let go. This feels too real to be a dream, and yet it feels too surreal to be actually happening. I can't tell if her touch is grounding me or sending me flying. Probably both.

Maybe I should just stop trying to analyze everything. Or just do it later. Maybe I should just enjoy the moment and make the better out of it. Live this moment as it is. Maybe I should just let myself _be_.

"Laila?"

"That's me."

"Why did you dye your hair blue?"

A laugh again, short and surprised. "Blue's my favorite color. D'you think it suits me?"

"Beautifully."

I'm don't care that I'm blushing like crazy. Laila is holding my hand. And grinning. And she's blushing too.

"What's _your_ favorite color?"

"Blue," I answer without missing a bit. Laila laughs. "I really love your laugh," I say to no one in particular.

"Wha- And why's that?" She asks me then, a little bewildered. I smile shyly and look away, my free hand playing with the hem of my shirt again.

"It's just, I like how you don't hold it back, it... sounds free, I guess?"

She snorts. "Thanks, I guess."

I laugh awkwardly and we walk in silence for a bit, still holding hands.

There's a feeling of peace and plentiness filling me, and electricity running through my veins. My gaze keep switching from the sky to Laila, and from Laila to the sky.

Of course, we end up locking eyes.

"Y'don't mind, do you?" Laila asks, squeezing my hand in hers.

I shake my head. "No, not at all."

"Cool. 'Cause I like it."

"Me too."

One step.

"Why d'you buy me a gift?"

One step.

I can feel my heart pounding in my ribcage, but also in the hand she's holding, and in my throat where words are forming carefully. "Because it's your birthday."

She's still smiling. "And that's all?"

I stare at her lips, at this crooked smile I can't read. I go back to her eyes and stay, gathering up the courage I need in their depths. I can't read them either. I look away.

"I may have-" I can do this. "Imayhaveahugecrushonyou," I manage to blurt out in a breath.

Two steps. My heart is beating too loud and too fast.

"I think you're cute," Laila suddenly says. She still has her lips bent in a smile, but it's not crooked anymore. It's wide and bright.

We stop at a crosswalk to wait for our light to turn green. I'm trying to find something to say when Laila kisses me.

Without a warning or a question, _she kisses me_.

It's only a light peck on the lips, already over before it's really able to begin... but it feels like a lightning just went through me.

"It's not a dream, right?" is the only thing I manage to ask.

It makes Laila laughs, but I feel her fingers tighten around mine as we cross the road.

"I sure don't hope so."

So when we reach the other side of the road, I kiss her. Without a warning or a question, it's just a little peck on the cheek.

You know, just to make sure.

**Author's Note:**

> (The song is "Girls Like Girls" by Hayley Kiyoko)
> 
> So, what do you think? Please let me know by writing a review, no matter how long or small!
> 
> I hope you'll have and amazing day/night, and see you soon!


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